


Bottling It Up

by DemonDeepFried



Series: Lost to the Wolf Inside [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Jealous Draco Malfoy, Jealousy, Potions, Smut, Teenage Drama, avoiding, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDeepFried/pseuds/DemonDeepFried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has been avoiding you ever since he found out about your being an animagus, but you're not sure whether you want to talk to him or not. When Blaise and he get into a fight in the middle of Potions, you decide you've made up your mind on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottling It Up

**Author's Note:**

> Here you go guys! Lots of angst and even a teensy weensy little smut :)
> 
> Enjoy and review!

“Ah, come on, Y/N,” Seamus goaded, nudging your shoulder for the fourth time that morning. “I’m tellin’ ya: you’d be a great addition to the Gryffindor Quidditch team!”

“I’ve already said _no_ , Seamus,” you told him firmly, turning your attention solely to the fried bread and scrambled eggs in front of you.

“What’s this about?” Ron asked as he slumped down beside you and began shovelling sausages and baked beans onto his plate. “You trying out for Quidditch, Y/N?”

“ _No_!” you snapped. “Seamus reckons I should but I don’t want to.”

Seamus turned his efforts onto your three friends now, levelling with the two boys who had just arrived and the bushy-haired brunette who had come down to breakfast with you. “I’ve seen her play since she were in pigtails, and she’s fantastic! A chaser to rival Angelina, I’m tellin’ ya!”

Harry mulled this over before addressing you with, “Maybe you should try out then, Y/N. I mean we need all the decent players we can get if we’re gonna beat Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins.”

You choked on your mouthful of pumpkin juice at the mention of Draco’s name.

“M-Malfoy?” you stuttered, coughing the juice out of your lungs. “He-he plays?”

Hermione sent you a curious look, but Harry said, “Oh yeah, well he bought his way onto the team. I mean his father bought the whole team these brand new brooms just so they’d _have_ to have Malfoy. It’s mad.”

“It’s pathetic is what it is,” Ron interjected.

Nodding absently, you toyed with your food and found your gaze wandering across the Hall towards the Slytherin table. You could see Crabbe and Goyle jeering at first year; even Pansy Parkinson curling her hair around he fingers and scoffing down greasy food. But you couldn’t see Draco anywhere.

The two of you hadn’t outright spoken since he found you in the grounds and it worried you that maybe he had told someone.

What with listening to Harry and Ron spouting Malfoy hate all the live long, and hearing about every horrible thing that Draco had done, you were beginning to rethink what you’d thought had been an accurate memory of that moment in the grounds. Maybe he hadn’t smiled at you that genuine smile, and if that hadn’t been real then maybe you’d imagined the ice melting a little in his eyes. In hindsight, of course you’d imagined that. You’d been told a thousand times since then about how Malfoy bullies first years, discriminates against muggle-borns, pokes fun at Harry and Ron and Hermione.

Yes, you’d definitely imagined it all. He’d probably just sneered at you and run straight off to tell his father.

“What’s up with him?”

“Hm?” you grunted as you looked up to see Ron peering over his shoulder in the direction of the large double doors at the front of the hall.

It was Draco.

Every doubt left your mind when you saw him, and you felt your heart quiver as your stomach plummeted below the depths of reality.

After another moment of watching him with interest, you saw what Ron was talking about. He was nervously searching the mass of students buzzing around the Main Hall and he looked slightly ruffled. When his eyes cast over you, they stopped and locked on you.

The moment he spotted you, he spun on his heel and almost ran right back out of the Hall.

Instinct took over, like it had so many times before as you felt the wolf rear itself inside you, and you clambered over the bench and took off running after him.

Your friends called after you, but you ignored their distant cries of your name as you squeezed through the throng of students. When you had finally managed to get out into the corridor, you couldn’t see him down either end of the corridor.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath, deciding that you might as well head to your first class now anyway, and joined the crowd that was moving down the corridor.

* * *

Your first class was Charms, and you shared it with the Hufflepuffs. Hermione grabbed your arm before you got inside the door and pulled you down a deserted corridor, turning you roughly to fold her arms and glare at you.

“What was that about?” she asked you harshly, arching an eyebrow when you stammered around a denial.

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you offered, fruitlessly trying to feign ignorance.

She narrowed her eyes. “You ran after Draco this morning,” she accused. “I saw you. Right after he walked right out of the hall, you went after him. What’s going on?”

In that instance, she reminded you of Dantea- your old friend at Baelford- who had a fiery attitude and always knew when something was up and wouldn’t relent until she was informed what it was. From what you’d gathered of Hermione Granger, she was a lot like Dantea- with the exception of her love of knowledge.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat loudly and tapped his foot against the stone tile of the floor, sending you both a pointed look.

“We gotta go!” you announced, turning sharply on your heel to dive into the classroom, with Hermione close behind you.

You swear you heard her mumble something harsh under her breath, but it could have also been a growl.

Taking your seat beside Seamus on the back room just behind Harry and Ron, you removed from your bag the relevant books, quill and parchment to start taking notes as Flitwick began talking.

The lesson went quickly enough with you sat next to Seamus: the two of you chatted quietly with Ron and Harry while you were practising the Spokelius charm (a charm that produced a small mist that spoke with your mouth) with Hermione shooting suggestive Looks at you in random intervals.

At the end of Charms, you all but ran out of the room and sped down to your Potions class in the dungeon. Barrelling over a group of three first years on your way, you clattered down the narrow staircase and practically fell into Draco’s arms.

He caught you from falling and held you for a moment, gazing into your face, before he realised his company of judgemental-faced Slytherins and shoved you away from him. When you stumbled onto steady feet, you fixed the bag strap over your shoulder and looked up to see him brushing his hands down his robes with a face of disgust.

A flash of hurt made your stomach grumble and wolf inside you was pawing at your insides.

“Got a little _mud blood_ on you there, Draco,” Pansy drawled, appearing from nowhere- a near impossible feat considering her elephantine size, _bitch_ \- and started lovingly dabbing at his robes.

He pushed her off him as well with a sneer, before addressing you with a shadow flickering in his eyes, “Better watch where you’re going, mud blood.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stifled a growl.

“Better watch who you’re hanging around with, Blondie,” you shot back. “Don’t wanna make Pug-face jealous now, do you?”

Draco frowned for half a second, then realised what you meant and glanced at Pansy with a look of horror. Pansy, on the other hand, was glaring daggers at you with a piercing vibrance of jealousy that could be physically seen in the air.

The blond stumbled over his words as you ducked under Snape’s arm and into the classroom the minute he opened the door.

“Eager, Y/L/N?” Snape called after you, returning to the front of the classroom as the rest of the class filed in.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “totally.”

Hermione, Harry and Ron joined you in another five minutes, all hauling their potion textbooks out of their bags along with ingredients and cauldrons. Harry was grumbling about Malfoy and Ron was fretting about his essay on the uses of Grundlewood in potions.

While Charms had gone quickly, Potions went about as slow as a one-legged elephant in a wind tunnel.

Draco’s brush-off of you earlier was tugging at the beast inside you, but not like you were used to. It was a new feeling that felt horrible and hollow.

After you’d thrown in the diced Mandrake roots, you searched around your desk for the lily flowers and blew a raspberry through your lips when you found that you’d lost yours. You swerved around Neville, who had managed to turn his potion magenta pink, and Seamus, who was in the process of blowing his potion up, as you headed to the ingredients cupboard.

Wrenching the ancient door open, you bent over almost double to root around in the lowest shelf for the lily flowers.

“Looking good, Y/L/N,” a silky voice purred directly behind you.

“Gah!” you exclaimed, shooting upwards and bashing your head on the cupboard. “ _Shit_. The fuck do you want, Blaise?” Suspiciously eyeing the dark-skinned boy in front of you, you noticed that the corner of his lip was curled upward in a flirtatious smirk.

He raked his eyes slowly up and down your figure, as though he was drinking in the sight of you. “You know,” he went on, ignoring your question, “I’d like to see you in that position more often.” His pink tongue flicked out to wet his lips and his dark eyes reached yours and held them.

He winked.

“What are you talking about, Blaise,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him and trying to signal Hermione over without looking like an idiot.

Chuckling softly, he peered up at from under his lashes and smirked again as he held you under his gaze. “I think you know what I mean,” he rumbled suggestively.

Your eyes widened.

“Umm…” you managed to get out before suddenly two bodies crashed to the floor and you screamed as the slightly shorter of the two landed a fist squarely into the other’s face.

“Draco!” you shrieked, hands flying to cover your mouth as you watched helplessly as he punched Blaise into the stone floor. “Draco, what the fuck- _Draco_!”

The blond was _pounding_ his fists into Blaise’s face, jaw, stomach; Blaise was struggling under Draco’s weight and crying out for help, trying to hold his hands over his face.

“DRACO!” you screamed. The wolf’s power exploded in your leg muscles and you dived at Draco, crashing your weight into him and taking him to the floor. “Draco! Get a fucking hold of yourself!” He fought your hold of him so you leant hard over him and held his arms down by his biceps.

He gave another hard shove at you but at the baring of your teeth and low growl in your chest, he froze and went stock still under you, staring up at you with wide eyes.

“What is going on over here?” Snape snarled, bearing down on the both of you. Before he had the chance to drag you up by the scruff of your neck, you stood up straight and released Draco.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, grabbing a lily flower from the cupboard and stalking back over to your desk.

* * *

That evening, you sat in the common room silently finishing your homework in your favourite overstuffed armchair by the fire. But you had been staring at the same sentence in your _History of Magic_ textbook for the past ten minutes and your concentration was dancing blindly out the window, prancing about in the early dredges of snow.

The image of Draco pounding his fists into Blaise’s lean body wouldn’t leave your mind and plagued every thought that sprang forwards.

Groaning to yourself, you checked the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and saw that it was about the time that Draco finished his dinner and headed down to the cloisters while Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherin gang. The sudden idea of running through the halls to meet him there struck you as the clock chimed loudly.

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself, making Crookshanks yowl when you stood up too quickly, throwing him off your lap, and sprinting out of the common room and down the stairs.

Throwing the Fat Lady’s portrait aside, you dived down the stairs and across the deserted corridors. The moon was gleaming like a spectre through the wide windows of the castle as you slowed down to a quick walk; with the coming of Winter, the nights drew in as well and it was already dark as midnight and just as cold.

Stumbling down the marble staircase, you swung around a banister haphazardly and made your way down the corridor that lead to the cloister gardens.

As you reached the archway that opened up into the gardens, you peered round and spotted Draco lounging back on the snow peppered grass. He was lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head, his gaze was turned upward to the sky and even from where you were stood you could see his stormy grey eyes flickering across constellations.

Watching him there seemed to ground the chaos inside you and, almost unaware of your actions, you padded across the grass- clad in your pyjama bottoms and a flimsy vest top underneath an over-sized sweater you stole from Damian before you left Bristol, all covered over in your large dressing-gown- and gently lay next to him. Without saying a word, you imitated his position and searched the Heavens yourself.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” he asked quietly, his voice soft and dangerous in the night.

You let your eyes close and whispered, “What happened today? In Potions?”

He sighed beside you and his arm brushed against yours. “Can we just…not?” he replied, voice pleading. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Rolling your head to the side so that you could see the outline of his face in the darkness, you urged, “ _Draco_ …”

With a great sigh, he turned his head to look at you as he admitted, “Look, Blaise was flirting with you and…and being a git. Are you really that sorry that I interrupted your little to and through or were you enjoying it?”

You gasped. “For you information, I was not enjoying it thank you very much,” you snapped bitterly, focusing your attention back on the sky, purposefully ignoring him.

“Y/N,” he murmured, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek and turn your gaze back onto him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just…never mind.” He dropped the hand but held your attention.

“Then what did you mean?” you pressed, watching as he turned his own stare back onto the sky, losing his silvery irises in the mess of stars above.

Closing his eyes, he blurted out, “I didn’t like watching him flirt with you, OK?”

You frowned. That wasn’t what you’d expected him to say at all.

“You…you didn’t like watching him…flirt with me?” you reiterated, confused.

Exhaling noisily, Draco lolled his head to your side and gave you a Look which you felt should mean something to you but didn’t. “Look, it’s stupid,” he said quickly. “Just forget I said any of that.” He sat up and made a move to stand up and leave.

“Wait,” you stopped him, dragging him back down with a hand on his arm. “Please, Draco,” you begged, “why have you been avoiding me? Ever since you found out that I was an… _an animagus_ …you’ve been ignoring me and completely blanking me apart from the odd ‘mudblood’ jokes. You know I’m a pureblood by the way, don’t you?”

Draco shook his head as though clearing thoughts, then told you firmly, “I haven’t been avoiding you because I found out that you’re an animagus, that doesn’t bother me. It’s actually pretty cool. And yes, I figured out that you were a pureblood a while ago.”

“Then what is it?!” you exclaimed, standing up with him and grabbing a handful of his shirt in your fist, stepping into his personal space so that you were barely millimeters apart. “What do you have against me, Draco Malfoy?!”

There was a vague shine in his silver eyes before his lips were suddenly on yours and he was… _holy crap, he was kissing you!_

It was more of just a press of lips really, and it was over in an instance. Breaking away first, Draco searched your eyes nervously, chewing his lip. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean it, it was nothing-”

“Shut up,” you halfway ordered him before you were crushing your lips against his messily and the pair of you stumbled back onto the cool, damp grass, interlocked in a tangle of limbs and lips.

Shuffling your weight so that you had your legs either side of his as you lay on top of him, you licked your way into his mouth and mumbled incomprehensibly into his warm – _fucking peppermint tasting!_ \- mouth. One of his hands threaded into your hair and tugged lightly as he sucked and nipped at your tongue; his other hand snaked under your sweater and caressed your side through your vest top.

You tangled your fingers into his platinum blond locks and gasped as he cupped your breast through your top, his chilly palms making you shiver bodily in the cold. Almost uncontrollably, you ground your hips down onto his and he hissed into your mouth, throwing his head back with a long groan. Taking advantage, you sucked a deep purple bruise into the milky white skin of his neck and lost yourself in the string of curses and _delicious_ noises that were bubbling from his kiss reddened lips.

In a quick movement, Draco rolled the both of you over so that he was hovering over you and shot you a wicked smirk, to which you returned a dangerous growl that rumbled your chest- he could feel the vibrations through his own as it was pressed so hard against yours.

He licked a long stripe from the hollow of your throat to your jawline with just the tip of your tongue, and you squirmed under him as the cool breeze of the wintry night blew over it. Your skin tingled like electricity and thrummed with Desire.

Your head was lolling back in the snow and you watched with a new found wonder as the stars writhed in the navy quilt of sky. Draco sucked and nibbled and kissed your skin with a passion you’d never felt before. It burned in both of you and when those flames met there were explosions and chaos- but also so, so much _more._

Draco captured your lips in another kiss and you felt shivers run from your lips to your abdomen where heat pooled and coiled like the wolf was ready to spring or howl or attack.

“I love you,” he murmured into your mouth.

_Well, shit._


End file.
